


Wishing you were somehow here again

by Fandoms_ruined_me123



Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Canonical Character Death, Dead Jason Todd, Grief/Mourning, Musical References, reality can be whatever I want, songfic?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:48:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26807626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandoms_ruined_me123/pseuds/Fandoms_ruined_me123
Summary: Bruce didn’t want to leave his house. The way to the cemetery became more familiar then the way to his work. He could see the people around him crumbling as well. They fell apart as someone that had settled into their lives as had. No, not left, been taken away. Everywhere Bruce looked he saw him. He saw the boy whose face he would never see again. He saw Jason.Whumptober 2020 prompt 19: Grief
Relationships: Barbara Gordon & Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson (implied), Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950364
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	Wishing you were somehow here again

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so as you can see I have been doing Whumptober very out of order and honestly I’m thriving with it so that’s what you’re going to get!! I’ve never written anything like this before so this was ver fun but I did cry a lot while writing it but I cry a lot all the time.  
> I just wrote this while listing to Wishing you were somehow here again from the Phantom of the Opera which this story is based after. Enjoy!!
> 
> And as always hout out to my amazing beta Elise who is the book you borrowed from your best friend only to forget about it. It's been three years and it's still sitting in your closet. You feel bad about it but are too afraid to return it

It had been two months, sixty-seven days since Jason died. Bruce knew those numbers by heart. There was not a single moment Bruce didn't think of him. There was not a single minute of relief from the ever present ache in this chest. Everything seemed difficult. Even breathing took energy he didn’t have. With every breath he took, the abyss in this chest grew. The abyss where all other feelings besides despair were sent, never to return. He felt good when he cried, as he poured out his heart to a son who could no longer hear him. When he cried and told him all the things he wished he had told him before. It was when that stopped as well he knew that he should be concerned, but he didn't have the energy to care.

No matter how many meetings he was allied into he never attended a single one. His clothes seemed to have doubled in size as they hung off his now smaller frame. Food tasted bland and unappealing, even though Alfred spent most of his days in the kitchen. Though, deep down, Bruce knew it was just him. At first, people told him it was normal to grieve and to take his time, but now they just wanted him to move on.

One of the only times Bruce could feel anything was when he saw the others struggling around him. It had been one week since Barbara was shot, six days since her surgery, and three days since she had been discharged from the hospital. Dick had been there for every second of it. He only left for minute intervals every day when Bruce and Alfred forced him into the hotel room they had rented for him only minutes away from the hospital. The day he fell asleep in the bed Bruce had breathed a sigh of relief. Bruce had no sort of idea if he had been like this after Jason's death. Dick had made himself scarce, only returning to the manor once in the two months.The only contact he would receive from him would be from Barbara and his teammates giving him minuscule updates to keep him from diving himself insane with worry. They didn’t work. It’s one thing to fall apart yourself, but when it’s your son it’s another thing entirely.

To most people, Barbara seemed to be holding up. The strong mask she had put up when Jason died only became stronger after she was shot. Her emotionless face was her attempt for others to see that she was strong. Not allowing it to slip around anyone even for a second but Bruce could see right through it. He could see how she desperately wanted someone to be there for her, but not to coddle or take care of her. Yet her fear that they would treat her like she was made of glass caused her to lash out. No one could so much as ask how her day was without receiving a glare in response.

On the surface, Alfred seemed to be doing the best out of all of them in terms of coping. But just like with Barbara, Bruce could see right through him. Bruce watched as the older man kept himself busy every second of the day. From cooking and cleaning to taking care of the people around him he never took a moment to think of himself. Bruce couldn't help but see the similarities of how he acted after his parent’s death compared to then. He had always wondered how Alfred dealt with the things around him when he was younger, now it was as clear as day.

Everything that had happened was not only affecting their civilian life but their nightlife as well. Barbara would be out of fieldwork for good but the one time anyone had come near talking about it she had shut them down. Claiming that she wasn't stopping and that she would find a way. They learned not to bring that up again. Bruce knew that with every passing day he was getting closer and closer to breaking the rule he had made years before. Every time he put on the cowl he could see Jason smiling up at him. His smile that seemed to appear everywhere Bruce looked.

There was not a place in the house that did not have Jason’s imprint on it. There was an overturned copy of Macbeth that he had left on the chair by the window in the library. It was one of the many rooms in the house that Bruce's mind had barred him from even stepping inside.

The bed in his room was still made but the blankets had been untucked. Wrinkles in the once neat bedspread from sleepless nights when Bruce would sit down on the ground beside it. Desperate tears fell down his face and caused the blanket to become damp. It was never dry for three consecutive days. Tears rolled down his face as he cried out for whatever entity who was watching over Jason. But no matter how many times he begged, Jason never came back.

Alfred avoided the room, he kept the door shut as if not looking inside would make the pain go away. Dick had only entered the room once, the one time that he had come to the manor. He didn’t even make it a foot inside the room before he turned and ran. He ran down the hallways, ignoring the shouts of concern that echoed from behind him. Bruce had only heard an engine roaring for a split second before he was gone. The message he had received from Barbara telling him he was with her still did nothing to calm his nerves.

The cemetery was only minutes away from the manor, and Bruce knew the path by foot and by car all to well. The world around him would become dull from the moment he left the manor until he arrived at the cemetery. He found himself at the cemetery with no memory of the drive over, almost as if his brain was turning itself off. He stopped driving to the cemetery. His shoes were constantly crusted with dried mud but still he made no attempt to clean them.

Bruce stopped, his eyes fixating on the slab of rock that had brought him so much agony. He knelt down beside it, the morning dew soaked through his pants and chilled his legs. He removed the flowers from his last visit only days before. The flowers had become limp and drab. The once vibrant petals seemed to become diluted as if the cemetery was sucking the life out of them. Gently he placed the new flowers he had picked from Alfreds garden to rest up against the headstone. His fingers shook as he opened his phone to play music quietly before placing it on the ground next to him.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce breathed out, tracing over the engraved words with his finger gently. “You don’t deserve to be remembered as a soldier, I just didn't know how to put into words what you meant to me,”

Hot, thick tears began to silently pour down his face as he leaned over slightly. Words became stuck in his throat and he pictures Jason’s limp, cold body in his arms. The boy who once was so filled with life now buried deep down in the earth beneath him. 

“I wish you were here again. Somehow back here with me. I would do anything, anything to hold you once last time,” He cried as he pulled his shaky arms in towards his chest. “Even now I still feel like if I just close my eyes when I open them you will be here again, 

“You were too young! Too full of color and life to be trapped here among stone gray statues. It’s too wrong for you,” Bruce's voice choked off as a sob erupted from deep within his chest. “I don’t have the strength anymore Jaybird. I’ve been trying so hard. Dick was finally going to talk to me, be the Dick I have known for years. But then Barbara was shot and he disappeared again. He won’t talk to Alfred or me, I don’t think he talked about it to his friends. He blames himself for all this,

“But the worst thing,” He began before he paused. Taking in deep frantic breaths as he looked up to the headstone. The headstone belonging to the boy who should still be there with him “The worst thing is that I never got to tell you I love you,”

Through desperate gasps for air, he could hear a car pull to a stop behind him. The engine turned off as someone exited the car. Bruce felt his face harden as he attempted to compose himself for the person walking up behind him.

“Hey Bruce,” Bruce turned around quickly to see as Dick stood behind him. A small bouquet of flowers in his hands as he fidgeted with them slightly. “Alfred told me you’d be here,”

“Dick,” Bruce breathed out as he looked up to his eldest son through tear-filled eyes.

“Babs wanted some space so I thought I’d drop by to see you. I can go if you want me to,”

“No,” Bruce said sharply before pausing. “I mean, please stay,” Dick nodded before he stepped forward. He knelt down before he gently placed his flowers next to Bruces.

“He knew,” Dick said softly as he smiled, the words broke through the tense silence that had fallen over them.

“He knew you loved him,” Bruce froze before he looked back at Dick. Tears cascading down both faces.

“Jason knew you cared,” Bruce placed his hand over Dicks comfortingly as he shook his head.

“I treated him terribly, all because I thought he was replacing me,”

“Dick,” Bruce said seriously, moving his head slightly to force Dick to look in his eyes. “No one can even come close to replacing you. Not you or, or Jason,”

“I know that now, but it’s a little late isn’t it?” Bruce reached over, hesitantly wrapping his arms around his shaking son who instantly returned the gesture. Dick pressed his head into Bruce's shoulder as he shook violently as they cried. Together they mourned. They mourned for the boy who had everything ahead of him only to have it stripped away.

“The Phantom of the Opera?” Dick asked as he pulled away, wiping his tears away. 

“What?” Bruce followed his eyes to his phone lying on the ground, still quietly playing the music. “I took him to see a production once, he talked about it for weeks after,”

“He had the taste for classics of an old socialite,” Dick joked, a small smile on his face as the tears continued to pour. 

“Let's get you back to the manor,” Bruce said as he slowly rose to his feet. “How long has it been since you got a full night's sleep?”

“Look who’s talking,”

“Why don’t you spend the night at the manor? Alfred misses you,” Dick stood up next to him as he wiped away the grass from his pants.

“I can’t,” He protested as they walked back to his car. “I need to be there for Babs,”

“Barbara can hold her own, she is a strong girl and you need to take some time to take care of yourself. Didn’t she also kick you out for a bit?”

“Well yes,” Dick hesitated as he climbed into the driver's seat and started the car.

“Then she will be fine, let’s take care of you for a moment,” Together they drove off. Physically leaving Jason behind but they both knew they would carry his memory forever. Maybe the past would never truly die, but together they could help each other say goodbye.


End file.
